


Strength

by LazarusII



Series: Star Wars One-Shots (Basically a Collection of Obi-Wan & Ahsoka Fics ) [11]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Blood and Injury, Explosion, Gen, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hurt Qui-Gon Jinn, Major Character Injury, Mission Gone Wrong, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, Protective Obi-Wan Kenobi, Protective Qui-Gon Jinn, Qui-Gon Jinn is a Good Jedi Master
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:00:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25248814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazarusII/pseuds/LazarusII
Summary: Obi-Wan attempts to rescue his Master from capture.It doesn’t go well.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Star Wars One-Shots (Basically a Collection of Obi-Wan & Ahsoka Fics ) [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1703224
Comments: 10
Kudos: 93





	Strength

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> This is a rewrite of last year’s Whumptober Day 1: Shaky hands.  
> Hope you all enjoy :DD
> 
> PS: It will be stated later in the fic, but Obi-Wan is 13 years old.

The small, dark village was slowly sinking into the oncoming gloom of nightfall. 

Outside a rundown cantina, leaning against the side of its roughly-hewn stone wall, Obi-Wan watched the sun slowly set behind Florrum’s desolate horizon. Absently, he counted the distant rocky spires which jutted from the uneven landscape beyond. 

He and his Master were on a mission—or they had been. 

Even as Obi-Wan waited outside, his Master was negotiating a deal which would mark the mission’s completion. And from what they’d learned and accomplished, there was an _extremely_ low chance of failure. 

Closing his eyes, Obi-Wan allowed himself to fall into the Force, spreading his consciousness across the small village. It was a relatively new practice for him. For the longest time, he hadn’t known how to control when and how his presence would expand. 

Now, under Master Qui-Gon’s teaching, maneuvering through the Force in such a way was growing easier.

As Obi-Wan expected, he encountered both the light and dark. Within the cantina, he could feel his Master’s presence like a miniature sun. The other inhabitants seemed dim, distant echoes compared to Qui-Gon’s, their intents and minds exposed to his touch. Many of them held a negative shadow about their minds—anger and ill intent masked behind blank faces. 

It was nothing out of the ordinary. 

Suddenly, he stiffened, attention snapping to what he could only picture to be a small black hole in the Force. It was approaching… not something, but some _one_. 

While the other presences held darkness, whoever this was practically _radiated_ hatred. Their murderous intent hung in the air. 

_It could just be someone passing through,_ Obi-Wan told himself _._

_However…_

Obi-Wan straightened up and sent a warning through his training bond to his Master. 

_“It’s a gut feeling—could be nothing, but…”_

Qui-Gon sent a soft acknowledgement in return, willing him to stay sharp. 

Obi-Wan knew that there was, truthfully, nothing that his Master could do now except complete the negotiations. 

Whatever this new threat was, it would be up to him to deal with it. 

Removing himself from the wall, Obi-Wan descended the rickety set of steps down to the road, eyes scraping the row of rundown shops to his left—and the open-air market on his right. Both sides were closing soon, their respective owners hurriedly packing away wares under the threat of darkness. 

Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed. 

That seemed harmless enough… 

Something wasn’t right. 

Then—the Force cried out a warning. 

Obi-Wan spun and ducked, his hand already at his belt, fingers closing about the cylindrical hilt of his lightsaber. 

_Behind me._

_How—_

An electrified, red-gold staff was descending towards his head, casting dancing shadows across the looming figure wielding it. 

Obi-Wan ignited his lightsaber and swung it upwards, nearly wincing at the horrendous crackling screech which filled the air as the two weapons collided. 

He saw malicious yellow eyes, slit-pupiled, reflect the electric-blue light cast by his saber. Claws, curled about the hilt of the electrified weapon, shone wickedly. 

Obi-Wan’s heart sank. 

It was a Trandoshan, and a tall one at that—built with massive arms and shoulders, wearing armor which only drew greater attention to his powerful physique. Obi-Wan had studied their people as a part of his Jedi training, but never had he faced one in battle. 

The Trandoshans had once been hunters of Jedi across the Outer Rim. Now, they were primarily bounty hunters. 

Heart thundering in his chest, Obi-Wan’s eyes widened as the hunter pressed into their blade lock with an incredible strength. Arms shaking, Obi-Wan watched as his lightsaber was forced downwards, his stance weakening with every passing second—

Something else flickered off to the side. Another weapon? 

Only then did he finally realize that the Trandoshan had only been fighting him with _one hand_. 

_Blast—_

The vibrosword whistled past Obi-Wan’s ear as he leaped backwards, nearly stumbling over a droid moving behind him. 

The Trandoshan spun the electrostaff smoothly, hefting the vibrosword in the other. Without hesitation, he lunged a second time, letting out a rattling bark of laughter. 

Obi-Wan blocked the electrostaff, but nearly lost an arm to the vibroweapon, spinning under the sword only to catch a spiked elbow in the ribs. Doubling over, he choked, cursing his own slowness. 

The Trandoshan kicked out with a clawed foot and Obi-Wan dodged, rolling away just in time to come up and parry another blow. 

Arms shaking, Obi-Wan drew the Force about himself, feeling its energy bolster his strength as he struggled to overcome the hunter’s sheer power. Something nagged at the back of his mind, an echo… 

They broke apart seconds later. 

Obi-Wan flipped backwards and landed, lightsaber raised in Ataru’s opening stance, eyes narrowed. His ribs stung, but otherwise he was unhurt. 

The Trandoshan spun the vibrosword, a look of contempt spreading across his elongated, reptilian features. 

“So, you are a Jedi, eh?” His voice was a low hiss. While he could speak basic, the Trandoshan’s speech was thickly accented with a patterned speech which Obi-Wan couldn’t place. 

Obi-Wan’s expression hardened. 

“You look a bit _young_ for a Jedi,” the hunter continued, smirking. “Such a pity that you are just as blind as the others—and to think that they call your kind omnipotent.”

_What—_

Obi-Wan blinked. For a moment, he felt nothing but confusion, and then it hit him. 

_Stupid—stupid, Kenobi._

With mounting horror, he lifted the mental barriers which he had unwittingly placed around his mind, and tapped into the Force. 

Tunnel vision in combat, a challenge which he’d been actively working to try and overcome. 

He only had a few seconds to feel the distant warning before a low roar filled the air. 

The red-orange plume of flame illuminated the village, belching thick, pitch-black smoke into the sky. 

Shielding his eyes with a hand, Obi-Wan felt a weight drop into his stomach. 

The cantina. 

With a snarl, the Trandoshan leaped towards him. 

Obi-Wan reacted on pure instinct, spinning and lashing out with his lightsaber. He managed to clip the hunter on the shoulder before he deactivated his blade, taking off towards the burning building at a sprint. 

Fear bit deep into his senses, a stinging pain in his mind. 

There were people in the flames, writhing and screaming, their terrible shrieks echoing in the night air. They tore into Obi-Wan’s heart. 

But their cries were fading, the bodies melting back into the flames. 

As he approached, two figures stumbled out of the building—one was supporting the other. 

To his horror, the more able-bodied of the two tripped, their foot catching on a loose board just above the steps. Both figures, for one terrible moment, wavered—and then began to fall. 

Without hesitation, Obi-Wan’s arms shot out, hands already guiding the Force around the their bodies, slowing their descent until both figures gently rested against the gravel path at the foot of the stairs. 

The Force murmured something, a whisper of danger. Obi-Wan, painfully aware that he had his back to the enemy, shot a glance over his shoulder. 

Villagers were approaching, eyes wide with fear and disbelief as the flames extended higher and higher into the night sky. 

There was no sign of the Trandoshan.

Obi-Wan fell to his knees beside the two survivors. He would deal with the Trandoshan again when the time came. 

One of them was human, male, with a thin and lanky build. The other appeared to be Zygerrian—if Obi-Wan remembered correctly—and female. Both were hideously burned, their skin charred and bleeding. 

Even as he leaned over them, the Zygerrian female coughed terribly, wheezing for breath as she blindly sought to grab Obi-Wan’s arm. 

He caught her hand, and held onto it. Her fear, pain, and confusion assaulted his senses, enhanced by the physical contact. 

Obi-Wan swallowed a lump in the back of his throat. Despite the many meters between him and the fire, he could feel its heat searing against his skin, burning his eyes and causing tears to stream down his cheeks.

The woman was trying to open her eyes, but it was clear that it was a hopeless battle. Smoke and burns covered her face, and a trail of blood trickled from beneath her left eyelid. The right eye was crying, the moisture blending in with soot and ash which covered her from head to toe. 

“Shh,” he tried to sooth her, attempting to control his own pounding heart. “You’re safe.” 

Obi-Wan stretched out his presence to the other figure, but it didn’t take more than one sweep with the Force to tell him that he was dead. Already, the man’s face had already taken on the characteristic grayish pallor. 

Fear threatening to overtake his mind, Obi-Wan searched the Force for any sign of survivors in the fire. 

His stomach dropped. 

There was… nothing.

The woman’s nails dug into his hand, wrenching him back into the moment. 

“They—” She coughed, a whine echoing in her throat as she struggled to draw breath. “—Jedi—there was a bomb.” 

_Master Qui-Gon._

His bond with his Master wasn’t quite dark, but it was also… faint and laced with pain. It felt as though he were far away and, well… 

Obi-Wan’s chest tightened. 

What mattered was that his Master was _alive_. 

She was shaking now, her free hand spasming as she gagged on her words. “Contact—” 

Obi-Wan, alarmed, released her hand and slowly maneuvered the woman’s body into a position which would help clear her airways. Gasping and shaking, she continued to struggle. 

Eyes wide, he looked at the growing crowd of onlookers. 

“Someone help!” He cried, “I need a medic!” 

He heard a shout and the sound of hurried footsteps. In the Force, he could feel someone approaching, desperate. 

Obi-Wan leaned closer to the woman, despair gnawing at the pit of his stomach. 

“Where is the Jedi?” He asked softly, “please, I must know what happened.” 

“—they—took—”

A hand dropped roughly onto Obi-Wan’s shoulder, nearly causing him to jump. Cursing his lack of awareness, he looked up into the eyes of a Rodian dressed in a ragged flight suit. She was clutching a medkit. 

“Thank you for your help,” she said in a low voice, “but you must allow me to tend to her wounds. She will die if I cannot help her now.” 

Obi-Wan nodded slowly and drew back, brow furrowing as he scanned the crowd. 

Already a team of droids had assembled, forming a perimeter around the still-burning building. As Obi-Wan watched, a variant type of shield began to expand between the droids. 

Soon, the building was encased in a large, clear bubble. 

Unreleased smoke churned in the upper half of the sphere, and soon concealed all else from view as the fire consumed the air within the shield. 

Obi-Wan looked up. 

The stars glittered above him. 

_“Master… where are you?”_ He called loudly down their bond. 

The only answer he received was silence… and the steady twinkling of the stars. 

* * *

He was tied roughly to the ground, the ropes cutting into his skin. 

Qui-Gon groaned. 

His head throbbed. Even the slightest movement caused his vision to spin uncontrollably in a nausea-inducing dance. 

But even that pain paled in comparison to what he could only imagine to be a bloody hole in his side. 

The Force was difficult to reach—and so was any sort of meditative state. His captor and the damned assassin droid kept injecting some kind of drug into his arm. It made things… difficult. 

A cool breeze washed across his skin. Even though he felt a deep burning heat in his face and body, the touch of the wind seemed to chill him down to the bone. 

_Fever, it has to be…_

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and attempted to breathe. The thick cables were laced across his body, digging into his skin, staked deep into Florrum’s reddish-brown soil nearly a meter away from him on all sides. The worst part, however, was the lattice work across his chest, there the bonds were so tight that he could hardly get any oxygen at all. 

_Breathe._

The memories were hazy, but he could still remember the moment when it had all gone wrong. 

He’d been in the midst of negotiating a peace alliance between two conflicting farming villages when that blasted droid had arrived. At first, he had only watched it out of the corner of his eye, suspicious. 

And then Obi-Wan had felt something change in the Force. Of course, he had. The boy was a genius and refused to acknowledge an ounce of praise—

But one didn’t even need such perceptiveness to realize that something was wrong. 

It was just after his observation of the droid that his memory failed him. 

There had been an explosion, that much was clear by the way his tunic was scorched. His face and hands were also burned… But… 

_How?_

_What did I miss?_

He opened his eyes and watched the purple hues slowly spread through the sky. If his calculations were correct, he’d been lying here for about five hours, immobile and pinned. 

_It was that, or…_

Qui-Gon just hoped that he’d only been captured for _one_ night. Unconsciousness was tricky. 

_Obi-Wan…_

The boy was young, only thirteen years of age. 

It wasn’t that Qui-Gon doubted the abilities of his apprentice, the boy was both skilled and strong. But Florrum was ruthless. 

Slowly, and painfully, Qui-Gon tilted his head to the right. The droid and its master were still there, one standing guard while the other cleaned the rather ugly-looking electrostaff by the fire. 

An assassin droid and a Trandoshan hunter. 

Qui-Gon prayed to the Force that Obi-Wan would not come after him. Full-grown, Knighted Jedi would have difficulty with an opponent of such strength and skill, and Obi-Wan wasn’t even a full year into his apprenticeship. 

The problem: he knew that the boy would do everything in his power to rescue him. Even before Qui-Gon had taken Obi-Wan as an apprentice, he'd recognized the willpower and determination in the Padawan. 

He gazed into the night sky, eyes tracing the narrow channel of smoke from the hunter’s campfire all the way until it blended in with the stars. 

One could only hope that his apprentice would not come, that Obi-Wan would request for backup and wait… 

Fatigue ate away at his vision and he closed his eyes again. 

As Qui-Gon’s mind faded into the depths of unconsciousness, he thought that he distantly heard a call through the Force. 

But his connection was hazy and muffled. 

And, for all he could tell, it could have been a part of a dream… 

* * *

Qui-Gon awakened to some of the most terrible pain he’d ever experienced in his life. A shadow loomed above him, a clawed hand pressed into his shoulder. 

“Move and this one dies, _boy_.” 

Sinking his teeth into his lip, Qui-Gon groaned. His head pressed back into the rough Florrum ground as his spine automatically warped back, arching as the blade dug deeper into his midsection. He could taste blood in his mouth—and feel it dripping from his side. 

Something was inside his chest, held just below the skin—but it felt—

He could feel the Force. Everything was clouded with his own agony, but he could _feel_ the presence of the life around him. 

The drug had worn off. 

_Obi-Wan._

The Padawan was here, he could sense him—

A soft crashing sound met his ears and whatever the Trandoshan hunter held to his stomach, twisted in retaliation. 

Qui-Gon’s blood was on fire, his midsection already growing numb. The feeling—it had to be the vibrosword, a damned weapon that had killed so many of his fellow Jedi— 

He gasped, unable to fight the moisture which slid down his face as he gritted his teeth against the raw scream that threatened to burst from his throat. 

The sky was orange, and Qui-Gon focused every ounce of mental energy he could into staying conscious, into counting the number of still-visible stars in the morning sky. 

If he passed out, Qui-Gon never knew when it happened. 

All that he _did_ know, was that the next moment his brain came back to reality, the Trandoshan was gone. 

Gasping, Qui-Gon fought for breath, a terrible numbness spreading across his mind like a poison. He knew what shock felt like, and its dangers. 

Sounds of combat reached his ears, but it sounded like a badly-recorded holovid.

Closing his eyes, he reached into the Force like a drunken man, sloppily reaching his way into its waves of light. He was fighting a losing battle and he knew it, but what choice did he have? He _needed_ to be there for his apprentice, for Obi-Wan… 

The Force was by no means a painkiller, but it certainly helped him stay conscious. 

Breathing raggedly, feeling his strength draining away with every passing moment, Qui-Gon blinked.

He twisted over just in time to see the Trandoshan hunger roughly throw Obi-Wan to the ground, pinning the boy with a clawed foot. 

The lightsaber, which had been clutched in the apprentice’s hand, clattered across the ground before coming to rest against the carcass of the assassin droid. 

As for the droid, it had been cleanly decapitated and run through with a lightsaber. 

In any other scenario, Qui-Gon would’ve praised the boy. 

But right now it was hard enough to even breathe, let alone _speak_. 

From where he lay, it was impossible to see how badly Obi-Wan was hurt, but the Force whispered of pain. 

_“Obi-Wan—”_ His voice, even in the Force, sounded weak. 

The bond flickered as Obi-Wan sent a panicked response, garbled beyond comprehension as the hunter’s claws dug deeper into his chest. 

He was conscious. 

“ _Two_ Jedi,” the Trandoshan purred, running a forked tongue over his fangs, “and to think that I would get a fortune for just one…” 

He came down to one knee, driving his kneecap into Obi-Wan’s chest. 

Qui-Gon felt a flicker of rage kindle in the depths of his mind as he felt the boy’s pain illuminate the force like a beacon. 

The hunter sheathed his vibrosword and drew a wicked, curved ceremonial knife from where it was strapped to his leg. It glinted in the light of the dying fire, but different than anything made of metal. 

_Bone? It would make sense…_

“It’s a pity that they want you alive,” the hunter continued, flicking his eyes up to where Qui-Gon lay, “but they never did specify on what _condition_.” 

With a feral smile, he slashed downwards. 

A yell filled the air, and Qui-Gon saw red. The Force was alight, filled with raw pain. He snarled, pushing against his bonds. 

Instantly, Qui-Gon’s vision went sideways. He could feel the void just beyond his consciousness, the whisper of an escape to all of the pain. The Force was all he had left now—a thin wall between his mind and the darkness beyond. 

“Get—away from him,” he hissed, surprising himself with the strength in his voice. 

The hunter certainly seemed surprised as well, for not a moment later, his large shadow was looming over Qui-Gon’s prone form. Leering down at him with crooked fangs—the same wicked hunting knife clutched in his right hand—the leaned closer. 

Qui-Gon, for the first time, got a clear view of its yellow eyes glinting down at him, pupils reduced to narrow slits by the thrill of the hunt. 

_“Master—”_ The boy was yelling through their bond, his body still lying still on the ground as if he were dead—

“Did you say something?” The voice sounded almost _amused_. 

And then the clawed foot came out of nowhere, dropping heavily onto Qui-Gon’s ripped tunic, lazily rocking his body from side to side. Darkness swam at the corners of his vision, waves of unrelenting blackness threatening to overtake his body and mind. 

Blinking furiously, he fought to stay conscious. His muscles screamed, his body threatening to shut down—

Qui-Gon grunted as his skull cracked roughly against the ground.

All the air left his body. 

His lungs were burning, his midsection an inferno. 

  
  


Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Obi-Wan rising, pain and determination painted on his face. 

Something was flickering above him. 

The knife was coming down—its ornate bone handle gleaming in the morning light. 

It was over and Qui-Gon knew it. 

In his current state, there was a chance that he could survive under a healing trance, but if he sustained any more injuries—

_Obi-Wan, I’m sorry…_

He could see the fine details on the knife and count the number of polished stones embedded in its hilt. The wicked curve of the blade shone, flickering in the firelight. 

All at once, the knife stopped dead. 

The air filled with a sickening crack and Qui-Gon watched, stunned, as the clawed hand bent back at a sickening angle. 

Twisting from the lizard’s grip, the knife flew up into the air, rotating slowly. 

The Trandoshan hunter roared and Qui-Gon cried out as the taloned foot dug deeper into his chest, the large claws ruthlessly digging into the base of his neck—drawing blood. The hunter was now putting his full weight onto him. Unconsciousness threatened to drown him, nearly blinding all his senses. 

There came a cry, pained and desperate. 

Then weight disappeared. 

Blinking in confusion, Qui-Gon slowly swam back into the present. He didn’t understand—

  
  


The Force was alive, filled with determination and… rage. 

Several meters away, the bounty hunter had frozen. His disfigured, broken hand was still raised as if to ward off some unseen enemy. A dark splotch was growing in the center of his chest, growing with every passing second, staining the thick, cloth armor. 

The Force surged. 

A high-pitched, reptilian scream filled the air as the tip of the vibrosword pushed through the center of the hunter’s chest. 

Blood trickled from the fatal wound, mixing with Florrum’s darkened sand. 

A smaller figure could be seen from behind the large Trandoshan’s body, covered in blood and dirt. 

Leaning on the sword for support, Obi-Wan Kenobi braced himself against the large reptilian hunter, his whole body trembling with the effort of staying upright. Around him, the Force was a haze of pain, desperation and resolve fueling his last attempt at rescue. 

Even as Qui-Gon watched, the boy fell to his knees, gasping. 

The Trandoshan swayed, his own sword still lodged deeply in his chest. Slowly, the light faded from the hunter’s eyes, and the pallor of his scales faded into a deep gray. 

Obi-Wan’s eyes seemed dull, reflecting the last embers of the fire. There was no victory found in his gaze, no pride of joy in the success of his rescue. 

  
  


And then the Trandoshan fell, collapsing front-first onto the ground. 

Obi-Wan remained frozen, kneeling beside the body. As Qui-Gon watched, the boy’s eyes widened, focused on his bloodied, shaking hands. 

Then he spoke. 

“I killed him,” the boy whispered hollowly. “I killed…” 

Qui-Gon leaned back, resting his head against the ground. He was exhausted, pain eating at his strength. 

It was over. 

“Obi-Wan—” he managed to say out loud. 

Through the Force, he could feel the boy’s shock and pain. 

_“You did what you could. The only one at fault today is the hunter.”_ Qui-Gon said through their bond. He tried to sound warm, but his voice was weak, even in the Force. 

A moment passed, and then he heard his Padawan gasp. 

Something clattered against the ground, and then the sound of hurried footsteps filled the air. 

“Master, I’m sorry!” 

The hum of a lightsaber filled the air and Qui-Gon felt a slight pulling sensation around his midsection. He grunted, setting his jaw as pain tore through his body. 

Obi-Wan’s guilt was loud and clear in the Force, spiking every time he so much as even touched one of the thick ropes which held Qui-Gon to the ground. 

Finally, the apprentice freed his chest.

Qui-Gon’s body spasmed, his lungs begging for air. Obi-Wan jumped back in surprise. 

Gasping Qui-Gon sent a garbled apology through the Force to his startled apprentice. He fought the urge to curl up into the fetal position. The wound needed attention—quickly. 

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon whispered, “listen—to me.” 

The boy stiffened, the pinkish hues of the early morning sky reflecting in his eyes. Over the last few minutes, his conflict had been growing, a soft sense of panic which had begun to bleed into the Force. 

“It’s going—to be alright, Padawan.” 

“I’m sorry, Master—” The boy said again, and then closed his mouth, face contorting.

Qui-Gon tried to speak, but ended up groaning as another wave of burning pain overtook his senses. His connection with the Force was fading, the darkness rising around his vision… 

_“Be strong, my Padawan. Place me under a healing trance, just like I taught you… Tend to your wounds and then contact the Temple.”_

He closed his eyes, feeling the cool breeze caress his skin. Despite his words, the apprentice was still nervous… 

With the last of his energy, Qui-Gon reached out and wrapped his presence about Obi-Wan to comfort the boy. 

_“Believe in yourself…”_

Obi-Wan’s breath hitched. He shifted, the soles of his boots scraping against the ground. 

Moments later, Qui-Gon felt the boy’s hands press gently against his face. 

The Force surged, the light warm, and almost blinding. 

And then the world faded slowly as Qui-Gon sank into the blissful darkness of sleep. 

_Fin._

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr [here](https://lazarusii.tumblr.com/)  
> All questions, comments, and kudos are greatly appreciated!  
> As always, thank you so so much for reading <3  
> May the Force be with you! Have an amazing rest of your week!


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